That's What It's Made For
by countmeaway
Summary: Simply put, Dean is an ass man.


written for a prompt on the kinkmeme. this is cross-posted there, as well as on ao3.

contains: rimming, anal fingering, prostate massage, blowjobs, hand jobs, dirty talk,

disclaimer: i own nothing, only the words written below. title taken from usher's that's what it's made for.

* * *

Simply put, Dean is an ass man. Sure, he can appreciate a nice set of tits, or a pair of long legs, or a thick, heavy cock, but nothing gets him going quite like a fat ass.

If he's being honest, it was one of the first things he was attracted to about Roman, and he couldn't fucking wait to get Roman into bed.

Roman, though, Roman wanted to take his time, wanted to take it slow despite the fact they'd been friends for years, and as much as Dean hated it in the beginning, he's glad for it now.

It's been a few months, and the most they've done in that time is some heavy making out, and an occasional episode of dry humping, but what Dean's learned in that time is that it's going to make the whole thing that much better.

They've just gotten in from dinner, a nice break to just be themselves away from being on the road for weeks at a time, and by the look in Roman's eyes, Dean knows tonight is the night. It makes him excited, giddy, and nervous as all fuck.

Because it's not about how Roman looks anymore, though, yeah, Dean cannot wait to get his everything all over Roman's ass, it's more than that. He's kind of stupid over Roman and he wants to be the only one, the last one, to take Roman apart and put him back together.

Roman isn't wasting anytime now, though, seems about as eager and excited as Dean, pushing him up against the closed door and sealing their lips together, hands slowly moving up beneath Dean's shirt.

Dean fits his hands to Roman's hips, slides them around to slip into the back pockets of Roman's jeans, groaning at the thick flesh cupped beneath his hands. He parts his lips to Roman's probing tongue, allowing him to take the lead, if only momentarily. There's still plenty of time for Dean to do that later.

It feels easy as breathing to sink into this, into Roman's hands and tongue, slowly and methodically making Dean's knees weak. They've done this before, kissing until they couldn't breathe, until their lips were swollen and spit slick, and Dean loves it every single time, loves the sounds Roman makes, the way his body shudders and rolls into Dean's, like he almost can't help it, like his body doesn't care what his brain is saying, aching for whatever Dean can give him.

Roman has never given into it before, and Dean's pleasantly surprised to find that he is now, hips pushing against Dean's, hard line of his cock rocking against Dean's, fat ass flexing under Dean's hands, and it makes him dizzy, steals his breath, moan bubbling up and out of his mouth, instantly eaten away by Roman's lips and tongue.

"Bed," Dean says, manages to pull away for a moment to get the word out, chest heaving as his lungs try to take in all the air they can.

"Yeah," Roman says, soft and breathy, but he doesn't move, and neither does Dean, still pressed up against the door, lips dragging back and forth together.

It takes a minute, but they finally manage to separate long enough to make it to the bed, long enough for Roman to kick his boots away, but then they're on each other again, Dean's hands pushing up the fabric of Roman's shirt, tugging it off and throwing it carelessly to the floor, blunt edges of his nails dragging down Roman's abdomen.

Fuck, but Dean loves Roman's body, loves how even though there's so much muscle packed onto Roman's frame, there's still some give to it, still pockets of supple flesh for Dean's fingers to sink into.

Roman's entire frame shakes when Dean's fingers skirt the waistband of his pants, stomach sucking in as he pulls in a deep breath.

"Gonna make you feel so good," Dean says on a whispered exhale, cups the line of Roman's cock and squeezes, feels the guttural moan Roman lets out cover his skin like a warm blanket.

Dean pops the button and pulls down the zipper, pushing Roman's pants down his hips. They slide to the floor in a pool of fabric around his feet, and Roman steps out of them, kicks them to the side.

Roman looks the way Dean feels: shy, nervous, excited, aroused, a pink flush slowly creeping its way across his skin, and Dean loves it, puts his mouth to Roman's neck, traces the long line of it down to his collarbone, laving over it with wet, sloppy swipes of his tongue.

Dean slowly works his way down Roman's chest, lavishes his nipples with teeth and tongue, Roman's hands fisted in his hair, sharp, electric curl of want floating through his veins. Roman's cock looks obscene with the way it's stretching out the front of his boxers, and it makes Dean's mouth water, his own cock throbbing insistently in his jeans.

Roman's thumbs hook into the waistband of his boxers before Dean gets to it, and he shoves them down and off his hips, hard, heavy cock curving up toward his belly.

"Jesus," Dean says, a little breathless. Roman's - Roman's kind of huge, thick and long and if Dean didn't want to ruin Roman's ass in the best of ways, he'd be fucking begging for Roman's cock in his ass, no two ways about it.

Roman snorts out a laugh, grinning a little shyly. He curls a hand around himself, though, slow, easy strokes from root to tip, hips rocking into it.

"Let me," Dean says, swats Roman's hand out of the way to take over, groaning at the heat and weight of Roman in his hand, pulsing and twitching while he strokes.

As much as Dean is loving this, there's so much more he wants to do before he makes Roman come, and it's with a grumble that he pulls his hand away, thumb brushing over the wet tip before he sets his hands to Roman's hips, guiding him into position on the bed.

Roman moves without complaint, line of his back a gorgeous, picturesque thing as he settles on his hands and knees, inky, black curtain of his hair falling over his face.

Dean smooths a hand down Roman's back, follows with a press of lips, humming under his breath with every shaky exhale Roman gives. He swallows roughly when he reaches the cleft of Roman's ass, feels his cock twitch and blurt precome at the sight before him.

"Dean," Roman says, voice like gravel, thick and heavy with lust, the first thing he's said in awhile.

"Yeah," Dean says softly, cups the swell of a thick asscheek in one hand, squeezing.

Roman doesn't answer, but it's like all the tension has bled out of him, body looking more loose and relaxed than it had only moments ago. Dean presses a soft kiss to the base of Roman's spine, drags his lips a little lower, pulling back at the sharp gasp that rocks Roman's frame.

"You okay?" Dean asks, places a steady hand on Roman's hip, calm, reassuring.

"Just surprised me is all," Roman says, flaps a hand as if to say 'get on with it'.

"Hey," Dean says, waits until Roman cranes his head back before he continues, "if there's anything you don't like, speak up, okay? Ain't tryna make you feel uncomfortable here, 'kay?"

Roman says, "Yeah, yeah, I know," nodding his head rapidly before he turns back around, rests his head on his folded arms.

Dean swallows roughly at the sight, squeezes his cock through the fabric of his jeans, feeling like he could come just from looking at Roman the way he is now. He won't, though, won't let himself come til he's buried in that sweet ass.

Dean quickly darts over to where his duffelbag is, rifling through it and almost letting out a triumphant shout at finding the bottle of lube and condoms with ease. He quickly returns to his position behind Roman, settling one hand on the small of Roman's back. With his free hand, he drags the tips of his fingers down the crack of Roman's ass, further down over the tight clench of his asshole, relishing in the way Roman's body shakes and jerks, soft moans falling from his plush lips.

"You're gonna love this." Dean spreads Roman's ass, darts in and licks a thick, wet stripe over his hole, again and again until Roman's rocking back against him, fat ass pushing against Dean's face.

Dean has always loved this, loved eating ass, eating pussy, using his mouth in a way that isn't meant to hurt, isn't meant to cut someone down and tear them apart. This is about making someone feel good, about using his lips and tongue to give toe-curling pleasure, sloppy swipes of his tongue and soft kisses of his lips, and Roman's fucking loving it, gasping and crying out with every twist of Dean's tongue, soft little sobs and his hips rocking back against Dean's face, trying to get more of everything Dean's giving him.

Dean growls into it, stiffens his tongue and prods against the tight ring of muscle, in in in until it gives slightly, relaxing enough the point of his tongue can fuck in and out, curling around and around the rim, sloppy spit dripping down his chin.

"Oh, god," Roman cries, shoving his ass back against Dean's face. "Please, please, oh, god."

"Shhh," Dean says, rubs his hand down Roman's thick thigh. "I got you."

He delves back in, keeps his tongue soft and wet as he traces over and around Roman's asshole, teasingly dipping his tongue in just to hear the wrecked sounding sobs that leave Roman's mouth.

"Dean," Roman says, voice that deep, rich rumble Dean loves to hear, "c'mon, please."

Dean sucks at the rim of Roman's asshole, fucks his tongue in and out before he bites the thick flesh of an asscheek, pulling away with a soft smack.

"Turn over," Dean says, pats at Roman's hip.

Roman's movements are sluggish, like his limbs weigh a ton, but he gets settled on his back soon enough, legs spread, knees bent. His hair is a dark halo beneath his head, and his pupils are blown wide, black eating up the stormy gray. His cock is hard and wet, trails of precome sliding down the tip, and Dean can't help it, swipes at it with his thumb and pops it into his mouth, humming at the salty tang on his tongue.

"C'mon, man," Roman says, kicks at Dean's thigh. Dean pinches the skin there but grabs the bottle of lube, slicks up his fingers and skirts them down Roman's balls, the sensitive skin behind them, slipping back and forth over the sloppy, wet ring of his asshole.

"Gonna make you come so hard," Dean says, promises, slides a finger inside and crooks it up immediately, zeroes right in on Roman's prostate and strokes.

Roman's mouth falls open, cock jerking against his belly. His hands are clenched into fists at his side and his hips don't stop moving, rocking down against Dean's finger, trying to get more, and Dean happily obliges, slips another finger inside, pressing unerringly against Roman's prostate, steady pressure that has Roman's cock leaking all over his belly.

"Yeah," Dean says, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, "look at you, fuckin' gorgeous, goddamn, Ro. Fuckin' knew you'd be beautiful, takin' my fingers like a champ, gettin' you all ready for my cock, fuck."

Roman nods, moans, can't seem to form words yet, stuttered sounds falling from his lips.

"Doin' so good for me, babe, fuck," Dean says, adds another finger, and Roman fucking loses it, back bowing off the bed, almost dislodging Dean's fingers.

"Fuck, Dean, right there, right there, don't stop, please, baby, don't stop," Roman cries, head thrown back against the pillows, and Dean wants to put his mouth there, wants to suck and bite and bruise that long line of his throat, wants everyone to know Roman's off limits, that he belongs to someone, that he belongs to Dean.

Dean doesn't stop, keeps rocking his fingers against Roman's prostate, ignoring the way it feels like his own cock is about to explode in his pants. This is about Roman right now, about making Roman come, making Roman feel good, and Dean's own dick needs to get with it and calm the hell down.

"C'mon, Roman," Dean says, breathless, "want you to come like this, from my fingers inside you. Think you can do that for me, baby?"

"Yeah, yeah," Roman says, thick tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

Dean doesn't stop moving his fingers, and Roman starts rocking down against them, fucking himself on Dean's fingers, little puddle of precome pooling beneath his jerking cock.

"Yeah, I know you are," Dean says, skims the fingers of his free hand down the inside of Roman's thigh. "Bet you're so close already, aren't you?"

Roman nods, breathes out a quiet, "yeah," face screwed up as his entire body shakes, shivers.

"C'mon, Roman, c'mon, lemme see you come."

Roman chokes on a breath, cock jerking as he shoots over his belly, thick, white stripes streaking his skin.

"Fuckin' perfect," Dean says, strokes over that spot one more time just to see the way Roman's body trembles with it.

Roman's still shaking, fine tremors coursing through his limbs as Dean withdraws his fingers, and Dean needs to come so fucking badly he can taste it, Roman the hottest fucking thing he's ever seen.

"Gonna fuck me or what?" Roman says, half a beat later. He looks wrecked, debauched, skin glistening with sweat, and he's still trying to catch his breath, chest rising and falling rapidly, but there's that challenging little glint in his eyes, and how he still has any energy left is fucking beyond Dean.

"You want me to?" Dean pets at Roman's hip, can't seem to stop touching him now.

"Don't think I haven't ever noticed the way you're always staring at my ass, man," Roman says, smirks. "As fucking amazin' as that was, m'still waiting for your dick."

Dean chuckles softly, shakes his head. Fucking insatiable.

He climbs off the bed, fully aware of the way Roman's eyes are on him, tracking his every move. He pulls his shirt off, throws it to the side, kicks off his boots and slides his jeans and boxers down, groaning in relief at his cock finally being freed.

"Yeah," Roman says, and Dean's eyes snap to his face, follow the swipe of Roman's tongue over his lips. "Yeah, that's gonna be so good."

Dean finishes removing his socks, kicks away all his clothes, crawling back up onto the bed between Roman's legs.

"Sure you're ready for this?" Dean asks, fists a hand around his cock and strokes. He almost doubles over from the stimulation, feels so good when he's been hard for what feels like days.

"Oh, yeah," Roman says, lays a hand over his own cock, slowly hardening already. Fuck, but his refractory period is nonexistent, it seems. Dean's going to have a lot of fun with that in the future.

Dean settles back on his haunches for now, watches the way Roman's hand moves over his cock, short, slow strokes alternating with long, quick strokes, cock twitching and hardening in his hand.

It's the hottest thing, watching the way Roman touches himself, the way he drags his thumb over the tip, the way his hand cups and rolls his balls, the way his free hand drifts across his nipples, pinching and twisting, and it makes Dean's entire body ache with how much he wants.

In the blink of an eye, Roman's back on his hands and knees, fat ass high in the air, and Dean can't resist, draws back and smacks, supple flesh jiggling beneath his hand.

Roman jerks like he's been shocked, but he recovers quick enough, pushing his ass back against Dean's hand. "C'mon, Dean," he says, shakes his hips, fucking tease.

Dean fumbles with the condom when he finds it, fingers shaking slightly as he tries to tear it open.

"Don't," Roman says, and Dean freezes, breath caught in his throat. "Just you."

Dean nods, though he knows Roman can't see, and he swallows hard, throwing the condom back down onto the bed. "Okay," he says, whispered and rough.

His hands are shaking as slicks himself up, settles one hand on Roman's hip, the other gripping himself at the base. It's one thing to know he's going to be inside that ass, but it's another thing altogether to be here, about to slide home, completely bare.

It's not that he doesn't want to, because oh, god, does he fucking want, he just doesn't want this to be over in the blink of an eye, and with the way he's feeling, with the way Roman's looking, it's almost a guarantee he's going to come way faster than he wants.

He knee walks closer, teasingly sliding the tip of his cock back and forth over Roman's asshole, biting back a groan at the sight of it clenching and relaxing, tight little space opening and closing like a hungry little mouth waiting to be fed.

One thrust in and Dean's flush against Roman's ass, surrounded by a hot, hot heat, so fucking tight around him he almost can't breathe.

"Oh, god," he says, grips Roman's hips tight, forcing himself to take slow, steady breaths, already feeling that telltale tingle in his balls that signals his impending orgasm.

Fuck that. He's not gonna be a fucking two-pump chump the first time they do this. He's waited too fucking long and Roman deserves better than that.

"C'mon, Dean," Roman says, squeezes tight around him. "Move your ass."

Dean grits his teeth. Fuckin' easy for Roman to say. His cock isn't wrapped in the hottest, sweetest, tightest place Dean's ever had the pleasure of being.

He slowly slides out, lets his cockhead kiss the rim of Roman's asshole before he pushes back in, slap of his balls against Roman's ass music to his ears.

"Yeah," Roman says, a breathy exhale. "Gimme more, c'mon."

Dean draws back and thrusts forward again, again, hips slamming hard into Roman's ass, beautiful, tanned flesh jiggling deliciously. "Fuckin' gorgeous," he bites out, grips Roman's ass in both hands, mesmerized by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of that tight hole.

Roman's reply comes in the form of a long, drawn out moan, rocking his ass back on Dean's cock.

"Yeah, look at you," Dean says, words growled out from deep in his chest, "tryna fuck your fat ass on my cock. Go ahead, do it, lemme see your ass work."

Roman lifts himself up onto his hands, throws his head back and starts working his hips, back and forth, back and forth, taking Dean's cock like he was born for it. Dean almost can't watch, the sight almost too much, Roman's back a sinuous curve as he moves, moaning and gasping and crying out every time Dean's cock slides over his prostate, clenching down hard, making Dean bite his lip so hard he almost draws blood.

It's getting harder for Dean to keep his orgasm at bay, and he starts fucking into Roman in earnest, meeting every rock of Roman's hips with a hard thrust, almost pushing him up the bed, and he can't control his mouth now, words falling free between choked out gasps and grunts. "Fuckin' made for my cock," he says, growls, "look so fuckin' good hangin' on my cock, big ass fuckin' made for me, goddamn."

Roman's clenching around his cock again and Dean can't hold out anymore, snaps his hips hard and fast into Roman and comes like a shot, feels like he's emptying his lifeblood into Roman's body, breathing hard and heavy as he shakes, trembles, pleasure so exquisite it's like winning his first title all over again, only better, more.

He pulls out slowly, watches the trickle of his come slide down Roman's ass, dirty, filthy, and fucking perfect.

Roman looks fucking wrecked when he turns onto his back, cock still hard and dripping, and Dean doesn't think twice about it, ducks in and seals his lips around Roman's cock, working his mouth up and down, swirling his tongue around every inch he can, rolling those heavy balls in his hand, and it doesn't take much for Roman to come, salty and bitter on his tongue, mouth dropped open in a silent scream.

Dean licks his lips after he pulls off, smooths a hand over Roman's sides and belly, blissed out look on Roman's face the sweetest afterglow.

Roman flaps a hand out at him and Dean ignores the mess they've made, settles in against Roman's side, sweat slicked skin sticking together.

"That," Roman says, sounds fucked out and exhausted, "was worth the wait."

Dean snorts out a tired laugh, hums his agreement. "I want this - " he runs the tip of his finger over Roman's cock " - next time, though."

Roman hums this time, swats Dean's hand away. "S'too much," he says, and Dean winces, apologizes, realizes that maybe Roman's refractory period is a fickle little bitch when it comes down to it.

"You gonna sleep?" Dean asks, scratching at his stomach.

Roman nods, breath already slowing.

Even with all the energy he's exerted, Dean feels a little restless, like he could still go out and get a full workout in, but he crosses the room over to the bathroom, rummaging through drawers and cupboards until he finds a washcloth, wetting it with warm water. He wipes his hands, his belly, carefully swiping the washcloth over his soft cock and balls, rinsing it before he returns to the room, Roman already sacked out on the bed, snoring softly.

Dean shakes his head fondly. He wipes Roman down as best as he can, returning the washcloth to the bathroom before he joins Roman on the bed, folding his arms over his stomach.

"Go to sleep," Roman says, pulls Dean in against him, an arm around Dean's midsection.

Dean grumbles half-heartedly, relaxes back against Roman's strong chest, lets the sound of Roman's soft breathing lull him to sleep.


End file.
